


Weight of an Empty Life

by tog



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombies Run!, M/M, Slow Burn, Zauren - friendship, Zombie Apocalypse, basically liam saves zayn when zayn doesn't want to be saved, okay the summary makes it sound super dark but i swear it's not /that/ dark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-05-01 05:07:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5193383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tog/pseuds/tog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>For some, the zombie apocalypse is the end of the world, and for others it is just the beginning.</i>
</p><p>Or the one where all Zayn thinks he wants is to do is die, but Liam shows him that he's really just dying to live. </p><p>Zombies, Run! AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	Weight of an Empty Life

_Get in and get out_

That’s the rule Liam always sticks by when out on runs. Niall on the other hand completely disregards this rule and takes his good ole sweet time scanning the shelves of the gas station and even jokes around by tossing a box of condoms at Liam. Liam offers Niall his best glare, but the Irishman seems to disregard that too. Truthfully, Liam loves going on runs—it’s something he did before the apocalypse happened, and sometimes he likes to pretend like it’s a normal day, just sometimes zombies chase after him instead of geese. But Perrie is out with them, and it’s not that he doesn’t like her, but she’s not the best choice for a runner. She spooks easily, jumping at every sound, keeping Liam to be on his toes.

Liam adjusts his headset, wondering if Harry fell asleep again. He’s a good handler; Harry always gets him out of areas before it becomes a problem, and is good company when things get too quiet. Liam would say they’re pretty good friends despite the fact that he’s never really met Harry in person, not by choice though. As a runner, Liam is usually outside the gates or training, barely ever having enough time to go around meeting people at the base. But it’s never been that much of a problem.

He hears a tiny rustling come from the bathrooms and freezes in his place, not out of fear but to listen more closely. He mentally slaps himself for not checking the whole area out before beginning their haul.

“Harry, do you copy? Did you see anything in here before that you didn’t tell us about?” Liam asks, instantly earning a panicked look from Perrie. He avoids her, and instead waits for a reply from Harry.

“The sensors didn’t pick up anything, but they’ve been kind of faulty lately. I’ll have to adjust them when you get back.” Harry comments, his voice even slower than usual, confirming Liam’s previous thoughts.

“Permission to take appropriate action?” Liam asks, gaining a laugh from Harry.

“You don’t have to ask LiLi.” Harry giggles, honest to god giggles. Liam huffs, because he really does have to ask, it’s the rules, even if he knows Harry is always going to let him do what he wants.

“I’m going to check out the bathrooms and then we’re getting out of here.” he tells Niall before leaving him. Liam hesitantly pushes open the bathroom door a crack and peeks in. He doesn’t see anyone or anything in there, but he knows he heard something. He lets his hand hover over the gun that’s tucked in the back of his pants, but he dismisses the idea and grabs his knife. No use in wasting bullets, even though he does work better with his gun.

Liam takes a deep breath and opens the door. He’s a few steps in before someone has got him up against the wall with a forearm pressing hard on his throat. His grip on his knife falters and it hits the ground with the clattering sound of Liam’s last hope. _This is it_ , he thinks. He’s finally going to fall into the hands of a zombie and he’s either going be eaten on the dirty floor of a gas station bathroom or even worse, he’s going to turn into one of them. Liam ignores the shouts from Harry directed at Niall and looks to the sunken face in front of him.

It’s not a Zomb that has him pressed up against the wall, but a man about the same age as himself. He reeks of the same stench as a zombie, and Liam realizes that his clothes are clinging tightly to the thinner man’s skin and is splattered with stains that are all too familiar. His bloodshot eyes are buried underneath dark bruises, but Liam can still see the fight left in him—a fire that only keeps ablaze in survivors, in people like himself.

“Do you have any other weapons on you?” the man spits out, his voice rough but steady. The pressure on Liam’s neck decreases just barely so he can suck in a breath of air and answer,

“No.” Liam lies, not really thinking about his answer. The dark haired lad’s eyebrow twitches up, but the rest of his face keeps the cool façade he’s trying to play.

“Wrong.” he reaches around to the spot where Liam’s gun is placed and swiftly swipes it from him. Liam clenches his jaw, waiting for the gun to be pressed to his temple or chest. But it never happens. Instead, Niall walks in and swing a blow to the darker haired lad’s head, and he’s slumping to the ground. Liam gives Niall a bewildered but thankful look.

“Next time I’ll check the bathrooms.”

 

~

 

Zayn wakes up to laughter.

Actual honest to god laughter. The last time he checked, zombies don’t laugh. Any other sane person would be happy, ecstatic actually. But that’s the thing; Zayn doubts he’s hardly sane at all these days. He bites his lip, wondering if he should leave the bathroom and check who is here. But what use would that do? He wouldn’t want to join their group and travel with them, but Zayn hasn’t seen an actual human being in roughly a month and he thinks that maybe a peek at whoever is out there will convince him that he’s not the only living person left on this damned earth and save him from full insanity.

_Just a quick peek._

He cracks the door open just centimeters wide. There he can see a man with buzzed off hair collecting a few items; a real, living man that’s not trying to eat him alive. He wants to laugh at how thoughtless the man is—anyone who has survived this long knows to check the whole area first. Zayn steps away from the door and winces at the small thud it makes when it closes, freezing in place and hoping that the man didn’t hear his mistake. The shuffling outside stops and it grows quiet, and that’s when Zayn knows he truly messed up. He figures that he has about 15 seconds to come up with a plan and take action before he’s found. He quickly notes how the man looked well fed and clean, so he must have supplies and a good base, which can only mean good weapons, too. He doubts the man is stupid enough to go out by himself, so Zayn gives him the benefit of the doubt that he has a partner or group nearby, possibly waiting outside for him. But he is the only Zayn saw, so he has to have a weapon on him. Zayn nervously glances at his knife that’s shoved in the side of his combat boot and doesn’t pay any attention to the empty, _useless_ , gun tucked in the back of his pants.

He muffles his frustrated groans; all he wanted was to lie down with a roof over his head and allow death to wash over him, but of course nothing is easy for Zayn. For fucks sake, he doesn’t even have a proper weapon on him. He knows he’s good with hand to hand combat and if handed a better melee weapon than the dull army knife in his boot he could easily take him down without breaking a sweat. But Zayn is weak, and he knows it—he hasn’t eaten properly in a good two months, only consuming enough small woodland creatures to keep his stomach from growling too loud, and hasn’t slept more than four hours a day in what has been ages. Not to mention the fact that the man with the buzz cut looks like he could be the product of the Hulk and Captain America.

Zayn doesn’t have any more time to contemplate because the door is inching open and he just only manages to stumble back behind the opening door, praying to a higher power that it won’t fling open and knock him out in the process. Thankfully it doesn’t and he decides in a matter of seconds that he could grab whatever weapons the man has and make a dash for the forest.

He’s pressing the man against the tiled wall and said man is just now realizing the situation he’s in. Zayn wants to smirk, knowing that he’s trapped him but doesn’t because he knows with his luck he’ll be the one ending up on the cold hard ground. Before the man can even open his mouth he’s letting his take over,

“Do you have any other weapons on you?” he tries to whisper shout, but his voice comes as a surprise to himself, raspy and about an octave lower than usual.  The man’s eyes flicker so fast that no normal person would notice, but Zayn does. He notices everything.

“No.” he returns, all too casually. Zayn is almost amused, sort of proud in a way that the man isn’t giving up so easily. But unfortunately for the man, neither does Zayn.

“Wrong.” and he’s reaching around, pulling out the weapon from the man’s back. He closes his eyes, obviously waiting for Zayn to off him, but that’s something Zayn could never do. He turns to run, but a painful blow to the back of his head is stopping him in his tracks and the blackness that Zayn so desperately wanted earlier is consuming him into what he hopes are his last moments.

~

Unfortunately for Zayn, he wakes up in the same spot. He doesn’t know what crime he’s committed but the world has something against him, he swears. His head throbs when he pushes himself up on one arm, pinching the bridge of his nose with his other hand. He groans when he opens his eyes, black inky dots invading his vision. He begins to stand up, wanting to get out of there pronto, but a hand clasps his shoulder, keeping him in place.

“Whoa there, you might want to take it slow.” Zayn snaps his eyes up to the man with the buzzcut. He instantly is aware of the empty space where his gun used to sit in his pants, and his knife is definitely gone.

“Fuck, if you’re going to kill me have the decency to do it quickly.” Zayn groans, roughly shrugging off the man’s hand when he stands up. But it relocates to the small of his back and one on his chest to steady him. The man looks surprised, almost offended at the notion. He shakes his head, looking back at a man with shockingly bright blonde hair.

“Niall was keeping us both safe.” he states. He suddenly yanks off the headpiece that was resting over his ear, hanging it around his neck. And sure, Zayn thinks, knocking him out was a great way to keep them safe. He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to ease away his growing headache and dizziness.

“I’m Liam, by the way.” he says after a few moments of silence. Niall walks up, still keeping a wary eye on Zayn.

He hands a headset over to Liam, a frown on his face as Liam looks at it in confusion, “I hate to interrupt introductions and all, but Perrie ran off. Guess she hit her breaking point…she dropped her headset too.” Liam doesn’t look all that surprised, rather disappointed. Zayn wonders what type of operation they’re running where they have working headsets and people assigned to go out on runs.

Liam brings his headset back to his ear. Zayn stands there, growing impatient to see if Liam plans on keeping him cornered all day. He suddenly feels like a prisoner, his fate in the hands of these two strangers. Zayn watches as Liam’s focus goes from him to something that almost looks dreamy like state, but he knows there must be someone talking to him through the headset. He seems to sober up in a split second, his forehead creased in worry. He remains calm though, mumbling a few affirmatives into the microphone.

He turns to Niall who is already nodding his head.

“Can you run?” Liam suddenly asks. Zayn looks at the sandy haired boy, shaking his head,

“My head, its—” he begins but Liam cuts him off,

“Your head isn’t your legs. Do your legs work or no?” he asks once more, and Zayn swallows thickly and pushes himself off the wall, deciding that the urgency in Liam’s voice means if he wants to live he’ll have to trust these strangers, despite one of them previously holding a gun to his back only moments ago.

“Good. Try to keep up if you want to live.” Liam advises before he’s running off. Zayn squeezes his eyes shut for only a moment, reminding himself he’s gone through worse than running with what he assumes is a concussion. He forces his legs to keep up with Liam and Niall, ignoring the aches of protest from his head.

He runs for what feels like hours, zombies emerging from every corner at a constant rate. Zayn wonders where they’ve all come from, the small town completely empty when he first arrived a few days ago. They finally reach the edge of the town, Zayn blindly following as they run along the highway and turn off into a thickly wooded area. He stumbles over tree roots and small streams, the two men in front of him not bothering to check if he’s even still following them anymore. Zayn huffs, wondering why he is following them still. Now that his head has faded from a constant throbbing to a numb buzz he realizes he could have taken a turn anywhere and have been long gone by the time the pair in front of him would realize.

But his legs continue to carry him behind the two men, bursting through the thickets and trees into an open field. In the distance he can make out what looks like a giant wall. They continue in the direction of the wall, growing closer as the minutes tick by. Zayn’s lungs burn but he forces the air in through his nose and out through his mouth, his shirt sticking to his back with a thin layer of sweat.

As they approach a gate begins to open, an entrance in the wall. Zayn stumbles through the gate, almost running into Liam and Niall when they stop. His lungs are screaming for air, his chest heaving as he pants. He looks around, overwhelmed by the amount of people surrounding him. He’s never seen a group of living people of this size, all of them looking untouched by the zombie apocalypse. They keep a distance from him, observing him like he’s a wild animal about to attack.

“Liam! Who is that?” a sharp voice rings out. Zayn winces at the sudden loudness, the dull throbbing in the front of his head threatening to return to its previous state. He watches a small man push his way to the front of the growing crowd, his question addressed to Liam but his icy blue eyes locked on Zayn. Zayn looks to Liam, only to find him already staring at him with a slightly impressed look on his face.

“He is staying, Louis.” Liam says in an authoritative tone. Louis give him an incredulous look, raising an eyebrow. Zayn decides to keep his mouth shut, and instead focusing on keeping himself conscious.

“You know we can’t just let people in, Liam! He’s filthy, covered in blood for fucks sake! Did you even bother to check if he is infected before you just let him stroll in?” Zayn shakes his head, chuckling underneath his breath. He wonders if Louis has ever had a drop of blood on his spotless jeans, or zombie guts smeared in his styled hair. Of course he would be wary of Zayn, he looks as though he hasn’t had to adjust at all to the end of the world. He can feel anger bubbling up in his head as he notices how privileged everyone here looks with their clean clothes, round cheeks, _innocence_.

“He ran all the way with us without falling behind once, and with a head injury. Which, by the way, where is Lauren? He might have a concussion and that’s on us, we can at least give him medical attention and a shower.” Liam says, his tone almost challenging Louis to say otherwise.

“It’s true. I’ve never seen anyone run like that, Lou.” Niall says reluctantly, still keeping an eye on Zayn this whole time. Louis glares at the three of them before scoffing and rolling his eyes.

“Fine. He can stay for tonight but after that,” Louis trails off, giving Liam a knowing look.

Zayn’s headache decides to make a comeback just then, a sharp pain that envelopes his full skull. He doubles over and empties the little in his stomach, bile burning the back of his throat. His legs give out underneath him, his shoulder taking most of his impact. His whole body aches and he groans, rolling onto his back to face the sky.

He locks onto a pair of green eyes, his vision growing black and a ringing in his ears.

 

~

“He tried to kill you! This has got to be the stupidest thing you have ever done, Payne!” a high pitched shrill wakes a disoriented Zayn. His first instinct is to jump up and run for the hills, but he instantly knows that he’s not in a forest and Zombs aren’t what are waking him up for yet another exhausting day of trying to survive. So he lies there, wherever ‘there’ is, keeping his breaths deep and even and listens some more. Zayn almost lets out a sigh because he was hoping they would have had the decency to kill him back at the gas station and rid him of his misery.

“I couldn’t just leave him there to die! You know I wouldn’t be able to live with that on my conscious.” Zayn assumes that Liam is talking now. He hopes it isn’t, because that would mean Zayn would be in debt to this Liam Payne character for ‘saving his life’, when really it’s the exact opposite of what Zayn wants. The other man sighs,

“I know, and that’s going to be your downfall one day.” he says sadly. Zayn can imagine who he thinks is Louis patting Liam on the back and giving him a sympathetic look. He doesn’t know if he wants to make his consciousness apparent or not, but Liam decides for him,

“Let him sleep for now and let’s talk with Harry and Niall before we do anything rash.” Liam says with a decided tone.

“Fine; but let it be known that if _he_ does anything rash it’s not going to be on _my_ conscious.” Louis says a bit too dramatically for Zayn’s liking and stomps away. Liam sighs and Zayn waits for his footfalls to signal his exit, but they don’t come.

“You can stop pretending to be asleep now.” he says quietly, and Zayn doesn’t see the use in pretending anymore, so he swiftly sits up and faces Liam. He looks a bit surprised, his pink lips forming a perfect ‘o’.  He quickly takes note that he’s locked in a cell, but from the looks of it it’s the only one in the room.

“Oh, wow. I didn’t know you were really awake.” he smiles and scuffs his own combat boots on the concrete flooring. Zayn raises an eyebrow at him,

“Then why’d you tell me to stop pretending?” he inquires, genuinely curious but making sure that his face only reads of indifference.

“Well, just in case you were which I guess was lucky on my part that you really were fake sleeping.” Liam says through the cell’s bars. Zayn nods before disregarding the man and taking in his surroundings. He’s currently locked in a cell, the room that they’re in looks empty for the most part, but Zayn remembers the amount of people he saw when he first arrived. He shifts ever so slightly on the thin mattress pressed beneath him, thankful to feel springs coiled under his weight. He thinks maybe when he gets a moment alone he’ll open the mattress and use one of the springs to try to pick the lock, maybe somehow form it into a weapon.

The cell itself is pretty small, only a bunk bed, shelves, and a sink inhabiting the room. Zayn takes note that there isn’t a window to be found anywhere in the cell, but he spots one across the room. He looks towards where Liam is now studying him silently and not so subtly. He doesn’t let his eyes flicker anywhere else and stares right back at the man, making sure that his face is void of any emotion.

“What’s your name?” Liam asks after a while.

“Zayn Malik.”

“I’m Liam Payne, I don’t know if you caught that earlier.” Zayn doesn’t bother to make small talk with Liam,

“What do you plan to do with me?” he inquires with a bit poison in his tone. Liam’s eyebrows draw together and he frowns slightly, like this is the last thing he wants to talk about. But Zayn deserves to know—he’s been fucking captured like some kind of prisoner, no scratch that, he _is_ their prisoner. He’s in a goddamn cell! But he’s done nothing wrong; sure he might’ve tried to steal Liam’s gun back at the gas station, but taking in his current situation at the time it was his only choice. Survival of the fittest, right? Plus, if they can afford to have spring mattresses then they probably have more than enough weapons to go around. Surely losing one pistol wouldn’t be killing them.

“You didn’t have to follow us.” Liam says simply. Of course he didn’t have to follow them, but if he didn’t he would have died. And if he is going to die it would be on his terms, not by some zombies.

“You didn’t have to lock me up. Could have just let me walk out like how Louis wanted.” Zayn shoots back. Liam shakes his head. He looks like he has more to say but he takes a long breath in first,

“We don’t typically just let anyone in, you’re kind of the first new person in a long time.” he drawls out slowly, obviously choosing his words carefully. “But depending on what the rest of them say, you might be able to stay if you can pull your weight.” Zayn wonders what makes Liam think that he wants to stay. All he wanted to do was not get torn apart by a hoard of zombies, not join another group.

 He remains seated stiffly on the thin mattress when Liam pulls out a few keys and unlocks his cell. Liam doesn’t bother to relock it when he takes a step in, stuffing the keys in his darks cargo pants. He motions for Zayn to stand up and follow him, but Zayn just raises an eyebrow at him and doesn’t move.

“Come on, you rank of death and look like you could use a new set of clothes.” Liam says and Zayn hesitantly follows the man.

He’s led into a larger room of showers and his eyes automatically search the room for any means of escape. He rules out the doorway at the other end of the room, knowing that he’ll either be stopped by a bullet or run into more parts of Liam’s group. His eyes flicker up towards windows that are placed high up the wall, almost to the ceiling. He doubts he’ll be able to reach them even if he were able to stack objects high enough. Besides, they’re barely bigger than a shoebox.

Liam goes to the corner of the room where a few lockers are and pulls out a towel and tosses a bar of soap to Zayn. He then sits down on a bench placed conveniently next to said lockers and looks at Zayn expectantly.

“Mate, you can’t shower with your clothes on.” he chuckles and Zayn fights off the blush he can feel heating up his cheeks. He shrugs off his coat before realizing that Liam is still watching him as closely as ever.

“Enjoying the view?” he asks with a smirk and this time Liam is the one blushing. He shakes his head but doesn’t break his stare.

“Just making sure you don’t run off; Louis would have my head.” he says while rubbing his neck, “We have hot water, but trying to keep you shower around five minutes.” and Zayn’s eyes widen at this. He hasn’t had a proper shower with hot water and body wash for months, settling for either scrubbing himself quickly in a pond or letting the rain do its best at washing the filth from him. Zayn nods and strips down without shame and turns on the shower. He stands there for a few seconds, letting himself enjoy the moment and allowing the warm water to run down his face and body. He quickly washes himself off, not daring to look at the water circling the drain that is no doubt browner than mud.

He quickly washes himself thoroughly and stands underneath the therapeutic pounding of the water, forgetting that Liam is still watching him. A tiny cough snaps him out of his mind and turns his head to see Liam’s eyes drawn and cheeks red.

“Five minutes are up.” He says almost ruefully. Zayn nods and turns off the shower. Liam is already handing Zayn his towel when he turns around and he quickly dries himself off, wrapping the towel low on his hips. He looks around, his clothes nowhere in sight and looks back up to Liam.

“Hope you weren’t too attached to your previous attire, because I threw them away when you busy showering except for your boots and leather coat. I thought maybe we could save them with a bit of scrubbing.” Liam explains, leading Zayn out of the room and back into the maze of hallways. He’s brought into what he assumes is their laundry room, due to the fact that there are piles of clothes waiting to be washed off to the side. Liam searches through another bin and pulls out a few pieces of clothing that aren’t stained with blood and guts.

“These should fit you.” he hands over the articles of clothing, “Looks like Lauren was already in here and cleaned your stuff.” Liam says, pointing over to where Zayn’s jacket and boots are sitting. Zayn quickly changes into the simple black pants and navy green shirt that fit almost perfectly before reaching for and slipping on his jacket and lacing up his boots. 

“Do you have my knife and gun?” he asks while finishing up knotting the laces of his boots. He straightens himself so he’s looking Liam square in the eye, never cowering under the man’s gaze. He doesn’t know Liam, and doesn’t have to remind himself twice that they’re not friends, that he might be trying to kill him later on. Liam motions for Zayn to step back out into the corridor, and he obliges. They walk again though Zayn has no idea where they’re going; seeing as if they were going back to the cell he was assigned they’d turn right, not left.

Liam doesn’t answer his question, but instead asks, “Do you want to meet Louis or Lauren today?” Zayn’s eyebrows draw together in frustration, only allowing himself to do so because Liam isn’t facing him.

“You’re the one calling the shots.” he says, holding back a snort. Liam nods and plasters a genuine looking smile on his face that makes his eyes crinkle to tiny slits,

“Lauren it is! Fair warning—she might look dainty and pretty, but her bite could give Louis a run for his money.” Liam chuckles while taking a sharp turn. They exit the building and head towards another one, weaving their way in between smaller buildings. A few people are milling around, all of them watching cheerfully greeting Liam but stopping short when they see Zayn. He focuses his eyes on the ground instead of meeting their judgmental eyes, mentally forming a map of the place. He could easily turn around attempt to make a run for it, but he dismisses the thought, knowing that Liam probably has this place memorized.

_Later, just not yet._

Zayn returns his attention back to where Liam is opening a door for him.

“Lauren will be through here. She’s helping with lunch duty so she’ll appreciate the help.” he says confidently. _So they’re putting me to work for the time being, I can handle that._

Liam leads Zayn into what looks like a kitchen. Occupying the room are a few pots that has Zayn almost drooling, and a petite girl running around with a mane of midnight black hair tending to said pots. She looks up from the concoction but doesn’t stop stirring,

“Hey, Liam! This must be Zayn.” she smiles brightly up at him and he has to fight a smile off. “Brought him at the right time too! Go on, take this and keep stirring for me alright?” she asks. Zayn obliges and Liam is smiling at him before whispering something into Lauren’s ear and leaving. She frowns a bit but busies herself with the food. Zayn remains quiet for the most part, letting Lauren fill the silence with ramblings that he takes in willingly. He does contemplating making a run for it, but he doesn’t feel like putting the effort into trying to escape at the moment.

“How long were you on your own out there?” Lauren asks suddenly, and Zayn’s even stirring falters for a moment,

“How’d you know?” he asks quietly. Lauren shakes her head sadly and offers him a smile while looking him in the eye with a gentle fondness that surprises Zayn. He hasn’t had anyone look at him like that in a while.  

“Your social skills are a bit rusty.” she jokes, “But really, how long were you out there alone?” and Zayn could answer that down to the minute.

“Five months.” he can tell Lauren is waiting for an explanation, his back story, but he decides that’s a story for another day. It’s easy talking to Lauren; she lets him talk when he wants to but keeps the conversation going when he grows quiet. He allows himself to breathe for the first time that day when he’s with her. She nods understandingly and offers him a slice of slightly stale bread and the soup they’ve been making. He thanks her and realizes just how hungry he is, practically inhaling the food. Lauren laughs at him, ruffling his hair as if they’ve been best friends forever. Maybe if the circumstances were different he and Lauren would still manage to meet in the grand scheme of things and become friends at Uni or something. Both of them skipping class to meet up in a coffee shop or late night cram sessions. Zayn stops himself right there because thinking back on those things get him nowhere; they only lead to pain and disappointment.

He suddenly recognizes her green eyes from when he passed out earlier.

“Oh yeah, you’re just suffering from exhaustion is all—no concussion.” she explains, “You should really be laying down for a day but Louis is being a dick.” she sighs. Zayn couldn’t agree more, but he manages to bite his tongue before he says something that could come back and bite him in the ass.

“So you’re a lunch lady and a nurse?” Zayn asks, which apparently is a mistake on his part, based on the offended look on Lauren’s face.

“We all have to pull out weight here Zayn, so yes, I’m a _lunch lady_ , but so is everyone else including you if they let you stay.” she turns to Zayn with a tight look, “I’m also the only nurse here, and I’m one of the two people here who have to qualifications to work in the lab that is still searching for a cure.” It sounds like a threat, the ferocity in her eyes not consoling Zayn whatsoever.

“I’m sorry if it came off as me degrading you, that wasn’t my intention.” He explains lamely, but she waves a hand in the air dismissively. It’s the first time he’s at a loss for words; in fact, it’s the first time he’s felt genuine fear in the past five months, fear that he’s fucked up the first thing in a longtime that has made him happy.

“I know what you meant, but someone has to make sure you know your place, and Louis and Liam really haven’t done a good job of that.” she’s back to the casualness she held when he first walked through the door as if nothing happened, and Zayn doesn’t know if he should be scared of her or kissing her feet.

“You’re a lot like how I was when I first got here. I was out there with Ca—I was out there with my partner for a long time, and we finally got ourselves into a situation that we couldn’t get out of. We were going to die,” she takes a deep breath, like she’s reliving the moment,

“But then Liam saved me…but only me.” she shakes her head, a small rueful smile on her lips.

“This place isn’t that bad. I didn’t want to stay but you’ll see; it grows on you, this place and the people.”

He doubts that, but the thought stays with him even when Liam takes him back to his cell, when he watches the sunset through the small window, and when he falls lays in a bed and sleeps soundly for the first time in years.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been dying to post this, so I did so without editing it whatsoever. If you see any major mistakes please let me know in the comments.  
> I'm going to try to update this every two weeks, maybe every week but no promises. Thanks for reading!


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